


My Heart Will Never Beat For Another

by habibinasir (lulu_kitty)



Series: vampire au [2]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: War of the Damned
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 13:44:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6118243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lulu_kitty/pseuds/habibinasir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shots from my vampire verse, Forever By Your Side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Heart Will Never Beat For Another

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *casually posts this fic and runs away*
> 
> LOL, guys, idek... So yeah, part 1 of this one-shot is just mindless Agron Angst™️.If you haven't read Forever By Your Side, you should probably read it for context, either before or after this would work. Also because it ends happily so y'all can't stay mad at me 0:))))))))))
> 
> Warnings for this fic: Agron is dying from infectious wounds so there is some talk of that and vomiting so if that upsets you please be forewarned.

Agron aches everywhere but yet he endures. They agreed that they would walk for as long as possible, until sunset, as they made passage through the treacherous paths of the Alps. He would not have them stop on his behalf. 

Just that morning, Agron had scanned Spartacus’s old maps, ignoring the sour sick feeling inside of him as he devised plan to get them back to the familiar lands of Germania. The best advantage they have now is time, once they are clear of the Alps they need to make the trek to follow along the Rhine river and into the Black Forest before Roman reinforcements can track them down. It is only once they make it into the depths of the forest that they will be safe of Roman threat. Agron knows those woods, has memory of trees and shadows ingrained in his mind. There, they will have the advantage.

Agron swallows down feeling of sick once again as he trudges on. Nasir is close by his side, glancing over at him every few moments in a way Agron would find irritating if he was not so focused on ignoring the inflamed feeling of his hands. It was an odd feeling, days ago, before the final battle, Agron’s hands had gone completely numb but now sensation seems to return in most unpleasant way. 

Finally, Agron cannot stand it anymore, coming to an abrupt halt in order to tear bandages off his damaged hands. He lets out sigh of relief as the fabric no longer scratches against inflamed skin. But then a new feeling takes hold as he stares down at his hands and it feels as if he is staring from somewhere else, floating from outside of himself. 

“Agron?” 

It is Nasir, he realizes and it takes Agron a moment to refocus on the man who had stopped short a few steps ahead. He is wrapped up in his cloak, his hair blowing riotously in the wind before he hurries back to where Agron has stopped.

“Agron?” Nasir asks again, concern in voice and written upon his face as he steps closer, his brows furrowed together as he searches Agron’s face. 

Agron stares at him for a moment before looking back down at his hands. In the center of his palms, his wounds are swollen and reddened as they have always been since injury. But now dark streaks of crimson and black seem to spread throughout his hands. He hears Nasir’s gasp as he takes in the sight. 

“Nasir…” Agron whispers, sorrowful, as he sees horror overtake Nasir’s face. 

“How is this possible?” Nasir shouts, panic in his eyes. “I cleaned and changed....” Agron stares as Nasir’s mouth moves as if he is still talking but yet he can hear no words coming from him, all he can hear is a sudden sharp ringing in his ears that drowns out all else. 

That is when the world starts to spin. Agron stares at Nasir, attempting to anchor himself by focusing on beloved face but yet his vision starts to tunnel around him and he cannot stop it. He knows it’s too late.

“Apologies,” he chokes out before world goes dark.

*

_Agron is nowhere and everywhere all at once. The darkness surrounding him feels both barren and all consuming, a contradictory feeling, the feeling of floating in an abyss and being compressed all at once. Agron wonders if he is dreaming or if he is finally being taken to the shores of the underworld._

_There are little flecks of light floating around him. Agron takes pause for a moment before he realizes what they are. They are his memories. They are floating out of his head and away from Agron. He makes attempt to catch them but they are just out of palms reach. He struggles to keep them close, reaching out to grasp them._

_It’s then that he sees his hands, they appear as if rotting away before him crumbling to ash before his very eyes. He starts screaming but it sounds far away, like an echo in the distance._

*

When he comes to, blinking into a swimming haze of golden light, it’s the arguing he hears first. 

“We have no choice, Nasir! He will die if we do not take action!”

“Just wait a fucking moment, he will awaken and we will make choice together. You cannot just decide such a thing for him without his consent--”

“And if he does not awaken? Or if he does and does not consent?” 

“Just--just fucking wait--” The sound of Nasir so distraught forces Agron into action before his vision even comes to. He groans, the world still swimming, as he attempts to move toward where the sound of Nasir’s voice is, Nasir’s pain more important than his own.

“Agron? Agron!” Suddenly the outline of Nasir’s face appears before him and Agron feels a familiar calloused hand against his cheek. Agron sighs into it, blinking as Nasir’s face slowly comes into focus. Nasir’s face is downturned, appearing as if both miserable and relieved all at once, the same look he had upon his face when they were reunited back at Spartacus’s camp. 

Agron makes attempt at saying his name but he cannot seem to do more than gasp. It’s then that everything hits him at once, the overpowering smell of medicinal herbs that makes his head spin again, the sweat soaked cot he lies in that clings uncomfortably to his fevered skin, his shaking form… He cannot seem to stop shaking. 

Agron clears his throat, coughing around the phlegm that tinges his mouth with the coppery taste of blood. “Nasir,” he croaks, his voice feels harsh against in his own mouth. 

“I’m here, I’m here,” Nasir whispers, pressing a kiss to his lips before pressing more small soothing kisses on his cheeks and forehead. His lips feel cool against Agron’s heated skin. Agron is so hot, he feels like he’s being smothered by heat and he makes attempt to push the blankets off from around him. 

“What is it? What ails you? ” Nasir urges, seeing his distress. 

“Hot,” is all Agron can sputter out, his vision swimming as he struggles to move. He feels Nasir gently pull away blankets from his skin but it only makes him shiver harder. 

“Oh,” Nasir whispers, choked up, coming close to wrap Agron in his arms, his hands rubbing soothingly through his sweat soaked hair. Agron groans, teeth chattering as he rubs his face into Nasir’s neck, taking a deep breathe of the welcome familiar scent of him. He peers out beyond Nasir’s black curtain of hair and tenses when he sees they have an audience. 

Laeta stands next to the Medicus, her hands anxious on the cloth she holds. Sibyl and Belesa linger behind them, bowls of herbs ready in hand. Pollux lurks in the doorway, whispering to the others outside tent that await the news of his condition. Agron can see several faces peeking through the tent flap trying to peer inside. He pulls back from Nasir and glares blearily out at them, a dull anger overtaking him, he wants nothing more than to be alone with Nasir. 

Laeta takes this action as an opening and she approaches slowly, as if confronting a wounded animal. 

“Agron,” she starts and he can hear the nervousness in her voice. “We stand relieved to see you awake. How are you feeling?” 

“Like fucking shit,” Agron growls out ready to demand they leave, but he is distracted by an intense feeling of nausea. Agron attempts to move away from Nasir as bile gathers in back of throat and he barely makes it over the side of the cot where a bowl of water sits ready.

Nasir is immediately wrapped around him again, holding the bowl in place and whispering soothing noises in his ear until Agron feels like he has vomited out the entirety of his insides. 

“Throw this away and get him fresh water at once,” Nasir demands once Agron has finished and collapses back on the cot, his shivering intensified. Agron does not look to see who follows command but just groans in relief as Nasir’s cool hands stroke at his burning skin. He attempts to reach out and wrap his arms around Nasir but Agron is stopped short at the horrifying sight of his hands. The infection has spread, making his whole hands swollen and inflamed, with dark streaks vivid against the reddened skin.

“This is worse than I feared, we cannot wait,” the Medicus’s harsh, croaking voice rings out. Agron watches as if in a daze as the old man reaches for his belt to pull out a large knife from its sheath and walks over to the fire. 

He feels Nasir tense as he hisses out, “Give him a fucking moment--” and that’s when Agron realizes what they intend to do. 

“No!” He shouts, absolute terror coursing through him. “No, no, no, no!” He attempts to scramble up and away but his limbs will not cooperate. Images flash through his mind, of Caesar’s sneering face as he hammered the nails into his hands, of his hands rotting away into ash before his very eyes… 

“Agron, please. Please, just remain calm,” Nasir urges as he attempts to keep Agron from launching himself off the bed.

“Nasir, Nasir,” Agron pleads, his eyes wild. The world spins like mad around him as he tries to clutch at Nasir. “You cannot let them do this, Nasir, please.” 

The sight of Agron begging is too much for Nasir to take and a few stray tears stream openly down his face. “Agron, please, they only mean to save you. You’re hands… they are infected. You will die,” Nasir chokes around the word. 

“Then fucking kill me,” Agron pleads. “Please just fucking kill me.” Caesar’s taunts of him never being able to fight again echo throughout his head... 

“I can’t,” Nasir whispers, trying his best to suppress the urge to sob. “Agron, you cannot ask that of me. You cannot.” He wipes at the tears streaming down his face and takes a harsh gasping breath before turning back to the Medicus. 

“Just fucking wait,” Nasir commands harshly, seeing how Medicus dips his knife into the fire, ready to start, “we have not given healing herbs enough time to work.” 

“We can wait until morning... and if he isn’t already dead, we can revisit the subject,” the old man croaks out before turning to the leave the tent, followed by an anxious looking Laeta. Nasir hisses after them in defiance before turning back to Agron. 

“Shh, see, Agron? We have time, all will be well,” Nasir tries to soothe Agron, combing back his damp hair. Agron just shutters out a sigh, staring at where the Medicus left the knife on the table. The ringing in his ears is back and that’s all the warning he gets until the world goes dark once again. 

*

“What a fucking mess you are, brother.” 

Agron blinks up to familiar face, a face he believed he would never see again. 

‘I have finally been taken to shores of the afterlife’, Agron thinks to himself with a sharp stab of sorrow as he thinks of Nasir. 

“Ah, yes, I see, after everything, you are still a fucking idiot--” the face smiles down at him. Agron felt a cool cloth being pressed to his forehead. 

His eyes dart around desperately, he is still in his tent, on Alps mountainside he surmised by cold burst of wind that blew through the cracks of the tent flap. What was even more odd than his dead brother sitting by his bedside was the image of Laeta, Belesa, Sibyl, and the Medicus curled up on the ground asleep. 

‘What in all of Jupiter’s fucking cock is happening? I have finally lost mind,’ Agron thought to himself. Duro appeared unconcerned by the growing panic on his brother’s face and continued his soft ramblings. 

“--my brother, a general? I could not believe such a thing until I saw it for myself. At first, I thought Spartacus was a truly a mad fuck if he put you and the Gaul in charge of anything, yet you proved yourselves worthy opponents to the Roman shits...A general in an rebellion army against Rome....That and your own little man. I saw him earlier, he’s a bit small but he is attractive enough in the face. You have done well for yourself, my brother, it gladdens my heart to see it.”

With that Duro presses his forehead to Agron’s in a familiar gesture. Agron swallows against the dryness in his throat, his eyes prickling with tears. Agron chooses to forget for the moment about the absurdity of the situation and focuses on the beloved face smiling proudly down at him. 

“Duro… how are you here?” Agron chokes, his voice getting stuck in his throat. 

“I…” Duro pauses, his face falling. “I had to see… I had to see you, before... I could not bear sitting in the shadows while you are in such pain.” Agron feels cold fingers press to his throat, checking his pulse. Duro’s face hardens. 

“Not much longer, we must do it soon,” Duro turns to speak to someone but before Agron can see who it is that he speaks to, he is gone. 

Agron blinks blearily as Laeta and medicus stand up next to his bed and continue whispered conversation with Belesa and Sibyl sitting up on the floor behind them, as if they had not just been asleep on the ground, as if nothing had just occurred. 

Before Agron could contemplate further, his attention is once again taken, this time by feeling of a calloused hand against his cheek. Agron’s face turned toward the feeling of it. He could not make out the figure in front of him, his vision blurring for a moment. “Duro?” 

His vision clears and he can make out Nasir’s face, which falls slightly at the posed question. Nasir shakes his head, biting his lip, looking uncertain before he runs gentle fingers over Agron’s flushed cheek. 

“Where did he go?” Agron mutters, his glazed eyes darting about, before falling back into unconsciousness. 

*

When Agron wakes again it is to a piercing pain in his neck. Agron screams, attempting to flail his arms around only to have them be locked down by his sides. He can feel something burning into his bloodstream. He cannot see what is on top of him, holding him down, it is just a dark mass to his eyes. An unmovable force. With his vision blurring, he looks to his side and his heart jumps at the sight of Nasir curled round his side, unmoving. 

_He is only asleep... He is safe. Do not fret,_ a woman’s voice floats in his head. Such a familiar voice…

Agron grits his teeth, it’s an odd feeling… He can feel the blood pulsing into his once numb hands, the feeling returning to them. A sharp pain to match the burning poison flowing through his veins. His fists curl up, somehow, even though he has not been able to move them for days. 

His eyes never leave Nasir sleeping at his side. Nasir’s face is pulled into a frown, his jaw clenched. Like he does when he is having a fretful sleep. Agron knows that face all too well as of late. He longs for nothing more than to reach his hand out and stroke the tension away from his beloved’s face. 

_We must take you from him for now but not for long…_

He can barely make out the dark figure standing behind Nasir. He does not want to look, he wants Nasir’s face to be last thing he sees to take him away from this life. 

_I cannot leave him. I promised…_ Agron responds in his mind. Ignoring the burning pain, his hand finds its way around the arm Nasir has curled around his own and grasps hold of Nasir’s wrist. The world fades around him but Agron focuses of the flutter of Nasir’s pulse against thumb his until it all goes dark. 


End file.
